Life's journey is not to
arrive at the grave safely
in a well preserved body,
but rather to skid in sideways,
totally worn out, shouting
'...holy cow ...what a ride!'
Ask a man a question, he'll give you an answer; Give that man a Blog and he'll spew for the rest of his life.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
A Touch of the Past
Every once in a while, two paths cross: the past and the present.
I've been zigzagging across these paths for a while now and especially over the last few weeks. Following along the Pony Express Trail, passing old stations and land marks known and marked from history, sometimes the past just doesn't seem so long ago.
This past weekend, I came across the preserved cabin built by Porter Rockwell in Eureka, Utah. It stands outside, under a protective roof, like a proud trophy or monument to a remembered hero. While I stood admiring the work that must of been used in order to move and protect this old structure, several other passer-thru's stopped to look as well. Ol' Port still can draw them in!
I snagged a picture and touched the cabin. Although the oils of our hands didn't mix, the act of touching something that someone who died nearly a hundred years before I was born had touched, made that person real and become a part of me.
I've been zigzagging across these paths for a while now and especially over the last few weeks. Following along the Pony Express Trail, passing old stations and land marks known and marked from history, sometimes the past just doesn't seem so long ago.
This past weekend, I came across the preserved cabin built by Porter Rockwell in Eureka, Utah. It stands outside, under a protective roof, like a proud trophy or monument to a remembered hero. While I stood admiring the work that must of been used in order to move and protect this old structure, several other passer-thru's stopped to look as well. Ol' Port still can draw them in!
I snagged a picture and touched the cabin. Although the oils of our hands didn't mix, the act of touching something that someone who died nearly a hundred years before I was born had touched, made that person real and become a part of me.
Within the echoes of the past
Stirs the whispers of the future.
Tuesday, April 09, 2013
The Lord and Mr. Rockwell
“You know, Brother
Rockwell, the Lord would rather that you don't drink.”
“It’s all right.” Porter calmed the situation and
offered the lady an explanation. “The Lord would that I not do a number of
things I do. I figure, one day I’ll oblige him and do right. For now, I do
appreciate your concern.”-Excerpt from AIN'T DEAD YET.
Monday, April 08, 2013
"It was an experience calculated to undermine one's religious convictions"
Sorry again for my awayness, but I have been businessing. Of course my busnessing is writing, or something so related.
I have been hanging out in the desert- the Utah Western Desert to be exact. The crossing of such caused Mark Twain to pen the sentence from which I drew my blog post title.
The stories of which I am writing are set in and around this environment, especially my second book CURSING BLACK'S TRAIL. I love this area and being out in it makes me feel connected. It makes me feel the story I want to tell. It makes me return to those thoughts that drive me to want to write in the first place.
So again I must apologize for my awayness. But I am out there, getting to know my characters and my story better. And getting a good dose of religion to boot.
If you need me, just howl like a coyote and follow my howl back. I'll keep the 'dutch' warm until you get here.
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